


Outside In

by crookedfingers



Category: Marvel, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Cock Rings, Established Relationship, Let The Symbiote Get Fucked, Monstersex, Other, Post-Canon, Power Bottom Symbiote, Service Top Eddie Brock, Size Difference, just some weird sex, very embarrassing for everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16512467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedfingers/pseuds/crookedfingers
Summary: Any healthy relationship requires some variety.





	Outside In

Right, so, he’s ass-up and just coming back around from an orgasm so crushing that his ears stopped working for a minute and all he heard was a little _eeeee_ noise like a mosquito buzzing around his head, when Venom says **Want to know why you like it.**

“What?” he says, because understanding language is still difficult during this post-orgasmic stage. “Why I like _what_?”

**This** , it says, and swipes some miscellaneous wet flexible appendage over his ass, dipping into it a little, just enough to make him twitch and clench.

“What?” he says again, with a different intonation. He thought they’d been over _that_ thoroughly enough. They had The Talk awhile ago, and he thought they were on the same page about why Venom has been—literally—up his ass on a pretty much daily basis for the last couple of weeks: it feels fucking fantastic. What else is there to understand?

**No** , the symbiote says, impatiently intruding on his thoughts. **You have anatomy that makes penetration pleasurable. I am aware. I want to test whether the effect would be the same for us, even though our anatomy isn't the same.**

Eddie says, “Huh?”

He has a pretty damn good idea what Venom is suggesting now, actually, but it’s funnier to play dumb and make Venom try to explain itself.

His own hands twitch slightly. The symbiote has picked up the habit of talking with its hands, and, sometimes, even when it’s completely contained inside him, it exerts a split-second of control over his hands when it’s concentrating on trying to articulate something. Eddie senses that it’s nervous right now, thinking that he won’t like its idea.

**You should do to me what I do to you so that we can know whether it feels the same way.**

“Ohh,” he says, as though understand has just dawned upon him. “Hey, if you want to get fucked, just say so. You don’t have to justify your experiment. I’m not awarding you grant money.”

**Hmph**.

A thread pulls on the back of his neck, drawing him upright onto his knees. Then blackness seeps out of his thighs, gathering into a mass that resolves itself into three-quarters of Venom’s entire enormous body. Wide shoulders, trim waist—comparatively speaking—and a fat goddamn round ass poised temptingly near his groin. Its lower legs merge together with his. Venom peers coquettishly over its shoulder, like fucking pin-up model.

“Oh,” Eddie says. “Like, _right now_?”

He glances down at his own dick, limp and wet at the tip.

“Well, uh, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. You’re going to have to give me more time before I can assist you with the research, V.”

“Oh,” Venom says, with obvious disappointment. Its body deflates like some kind of deep-sea fish brought up to the surface where its tissue isn’t compatible with the atmospheric pressure, and it _slorps_ its way back into him through his legs. Eddie becomes aware that it’s _embarrassed_. It thought it was being _irresistible_.

He rubs the back of his neck. He feels a twinge of guilt for spoiling a moment that Venom had clearly built up in its mind, but also pleased, as though he’s discovered someone hotter than he is has a crush on him.

“Hey, why are you hiding? I said I was willing. Come back.”

He gets a mental image of Venom crossings its arms. Sulking. He frowns, then balloons his cheeks out, and then lets go of his breath with a _pop_. Time for the magic words.

“Do you want to get something to eat?”

 

 

They go out for rotisserie chicken and Greek fries, and as an extra treat they stop for a packet of chicken livers from the grocery store butcher. It’s not the warm living meat that Venom wants, but the livers are soft and close to fresh, and when they get home Venom manifests its head from his shoulder like the weirdest goddamn parrot in the world and gulps down the raw little morsels that he tosses into the air for it to catch.

Honestly, by the time they’ve finished eating, the grease from the chicken and the fries has made him want to sleep, but Eddie makes himself brush his teeth, and take a fast shower (though he re-dress again afterward), and even put on some deodorant, preparing for this like he would for a real date. Maybe he stalls more than he should, though. The symbiote writhes under his skin as he squints into his bathroom mirror and tweezers a clump of hair out of his nose.

**Eddie. _Eddie._**

Eddie wets his hands with cold water and gives himself a motivating slap on both sides of the face. “Okay. Okay. Let’s do it.”

Venom gets to the bed before he does. It shoots out of Eddie’s stomach ahead of him and coalesces on the mattress as a huge black puddle with a swaying, cobra-like head at the center. The ribbons that connect them contract, reeling Eddie in like a fish on the line until he clambers onto the bed, his hands sinking into the symbiote’s unshaped mass. He sits there and frowns in thought.

“You into foreplay? You want me to—do stuff with my hands? Or?”

The symbiote immediately ripples up his arms and gets its face right in front of his. “Let’s do kissing.”

“Okay,” he says. Well, what he actually says is _oh-guhh_ , because Venom is on him instantly, putting its tongue into his mouth.

The kiss is very wet and very… all over. Pretty much what a person would expect. There’s not much option for delicacy. Venom has a lot of teeth, and a lot of tongue, and a lot of mouth. But it’s better than their first kiss, both because he understands what’s happening this time and because he kind of knows what to do now. Eddie straightens his spine and tips his head back like a fucking sword swallower and lets Venom pretty much slither its tongue right down his throat.

He sits back on his heels as Venom gathers itself, spooling out of his chest, forming a half-torso that looms over him, cupping his head and waist with its big hands. He sucks on its tongue and grasps at its arms. The teeth drip saliva onto his chest and thighs.

“Fuck,” he breathes when the tongue finally withdraws from his mouth.

“Yes,” Venom says, smugly.

Eddie wipes his chin. “That put you in the mood, huh, big guy?”

“Yes. We are going to fuck now.”

Some part of the symbiote slithers down his stomach and squeezes eagerly at his groin. He doesn’t have much of a chub right now, but it won’t take a lot to change that.

“Okay,” he agrees, weakly. “You’re going to have to, ah, come out of me as much as possible and, ah, get? Onnn? Your hands and knees?”

More of the symbiote starts to spill out of his chest, twisting in on itself as its bulk grows. Soon Venom has formed a partial body, hands and knees braced on the mattress, facing away from him. Hesitantly, Eddie puts his hands on Venom’s ass. They look like stupid baby hands in comparison. He spreads Venom open and stares hard, appraising the situation. The fucking bubble butt notwithstanding, Venom doesn’t really have anything else going on downstairs. Kind of Ken doll situation.

“Nice,” he says, just to be encouraging. Then he clears his throat. “You know you can have… anything you want down here, right? I don’t, um. Mind. But I need something to—uh—fuck.”

“I know what is required,” Venom says, peevishly.

“Oh. Okay.”

Apparently it’s up to him to figure out.

He doesn’t see an obvious place to—well—stick it in. Everything is just inky and generally kind of moist looking. Searchingly, he moves a hand inward and glides two fingers down the middle of Venom’s ass. There isn’t— Wait. He encounters a slight dip that his fingertips catch against. It’s not like the tight little pucker he’s used to; it’s just a smooth, shallow indentation. But when he presses his fingers into it experimentally, it’s deeper than he thought. Or—no. It deepens _for_ him. He pushes a little farther, sinking half his finger in. A thin tendril reaches back to him and twines all the way up to his knuckle.

“Don’t have to do that, Eddie.”

Apparently not. Pushing his finger in is smooth and easy; no lube required. He nudges it deeper.

“I’m going to give you the full experience, and that includes prep- _a_ -ra- _tion_.”

An additional tendril wanders up and down his dick.

“Not that much to prepare for,” Venom mutters.

Wow.

“What was that?” he asks, lightly.

“Nothing, Eddie.”

“Ah, mm, okay. Must have been imagining things.”

He works a second finger next to the first and pumps his hand a few times, then tries to spread his fingers apart. This isn’t like any prep he’s ever done before. The symbiote feels basically the same on the inside as it does on the outside; it’s uniformly tight around his fingers no matter how much he wiggles them, but it also yields easily to any pressure, and he has no trouble squeezing a third finger alongside the others. After another moment, it dawns on him that he’s not really _inside_ the symbiote at all: it’s just making a space for him by reshaping its body around the intrusion. It’s like fingering a giant, man-eating version of one of those weird, water-filled tube toys that turn themselves inside-out.

“This doing anything for you?” he asks, craning sideways to get a look at the symbiote’s face. It looks… relaxed. Eyes half shuttered, mouth slack around the crooked teeth. But its tongue lashes out when he stops moving his fingers.

“I will say when to stop.”

“Well, alright, fuck, sorry for asking.”

On an impulse, he fits his thumb close to his other fingers, making a wedge shape with his hand, and pushes forward. There’s a bit of token resistance, and then his whole fucking hand disappears right up to the wrist before he can second-guess himself. He pauses like that, astonished by the reality of what he’s doing. Yeah, _this_ is what shocks him; he’s nonplussed about the enormous alien spilling out of his body, but putting his entire hand into its bespoke asshole is apparently too much for him to wrap his mind around.

“Eddie,” Venom grunts, impatient with him for stopping again so soon.

Eyes riveted on his wrist, Eddie pushes more. His wrist bone disappears. Then another inch of his wrist.

Oh. Fuck.

When he’s done this before, getting his fist in was the entire accomplishment, and there wasn’t much else he could do with it. Either there wasn’t anywhere else for it go, or going deeper wasn’t comfortable. This is different. There’s nothing stopping him. He keeps pushing, and more of his arm just keeps going in. He pumps slowly, going slightly farther each time, moving with a determined, mechanical focus. He’s buried to his elbow before he knows it, and it’s— _fuck_. He could probably go all the way to his _shoulder_ if he wanted to. It’s not even that weird to think about. They’re Venom, and there’s always room for him inside the other.

The symbiote is… purring now, kind of. Making this deep, thrumming noise that he _feels_ in his arm. And he’s being… held. Or pulled in? There’s clutching pressure around his arm that ripples and drags at him. He pulls back, reclaiming a few inches of his arm, and then relaxes and lets that strange, gripping sensation draw him in again. It’s strange, but it doesn’t unsettle him like it should. Like, why not? Venom arches and rubs the side of its face against the bed; he feels encouraged. He starts to piston his arm again, slowly at first, and then escalating the speed and force until his whole body is rocking along with the motion, the bed squeaking and groaning under them.

He’s never done anything like this before. It doesn’t exactly feel good for him in a physical way, but it’s _satisfactory_ on a level that he can’t explain. Or maybe it _is_ physical satisfaction, it’s just that the feeling is physically grounded right in his brain—the exact node, maybe, where Venom is truly anchored to him, where their connection is rooted.

Anyway. He gets, like, pretty into it. This is like extreme hardcore porno levels of rigorous fisting.

Then Venom’s steady, chest-vibrating purring falters, and Eddie suddenly can’t move his arm at all. It’s like he’s elbow-deep in a block of warm concrete.

“That’s enough prep- _a_ -ra- _tion_ , Eddie. Do it for real now.”

“Okay—well—this _is_ for real, you know. This is real sex. That we are having right now.”

Venom sighs loudly. “Do it the way you usually do. Like with _Anne_.”

“Hey, hey!”

“Or the one before. What he did to you that made you so _loud_.”

“Hey, _hey_!”

The symbiote snickers. Eddie finds that he can move his arm again. He withdraws it slowly and stares at it, opening and closing his fist, rotating it so he can examine it from all sides. It’s not even wet or anything.

“Um.” Eddie glances down at himself. His dick is at full-mast now and very red. It’s never looked so inadequate before. “Look. It’s… not going to feel like anything special after… that. I don’t know the circumference of my arm, exactly, but there’s a, a difference between…”

“I don’t want your excuses, Eddie. I want your penis.”

“Oh-kay,” he says, his voice rising a little. “Well. H…ere it is.”

He takes his dick in hand and shuffles closer to line himself up, but there’s, uh, some height difference between them, and he’s not even tall enough to get where he needs to be, but then the symbiote’s legs partially unravel, absorbing back into his own body, and it sinks down to his level— _which_ is embarrassing, but also convenient, and also kind of hot in an inexplicable way.

Then he pushes in.

It’s exactly like it was for his fingers. Tight but giving. A hot, clutching space that fits him perfectly.

“Ahhh,” he says.

“Ahhh,” Venom says.

He grabs the symbiote’s hips and makes a few short, stuttery motions. It’s so good that he feels it all the way down his thighs, and his balls immediately start to ache. This is bad. He’s going to last, like, a minute, tops. He peels a bit of dead skin from his bottom lip with his teeth and chews it.

“Um. Do you think you could give me a, a ring?”

Venom gives a low, happy growl. In the course of their previous sexual experimentation, Venom had discovered that winding a tendril tight around his junk makes him take longer to come. And, not that he’d _minded_ , but he’s never specifically asked for it before. Now he feels pressure around the base of his dick and under his balls, wrapping snugly around him.

“Thanks,” he says, breathlessly.

“You are welcome.”

He hunches himself over Venom’s big body and thrusts a few more times. And, God help him, Venom pushes _back_. It grips at the mattress, arching against him, and it’s Eddie who feels well and truly _fucked_ , not because it feels incredible—which it _does_ —but because he gets a wave of emotion flowing back into him. He senses how completely the symbiote trusts him, and wants to understand him, and wants to share every possible kind of experience they can have together. It’s happy that Eddie is doing this, and even though this act isn’t as enjoyable as it is for Eddie when their positions are switched, it still likes the way this feels because it’s _Eddie_ doing it.

So, yeah, they’re having sex, and Eddie feels like he’s on the verge of crying from the mystifying tenderness of emotional intimacy. He rocks his hips and tries to exert some dominance over his own fucking tear ducts.

“Eddie?”

“Sorry.” He gives a wet sniff. “Everything’s fine. Please—just—don’t tear the mattress open, okay?”

And then he really throws his back into it. It’s embarrassingly weak compared to what Venom can do to _him_ , but he finds handholds on Venom’s body and determinedly fucks like a college kid whose roommate is away for the first time all semester. Just fast and sharp and maybe kind of arrhythmic. Meanwhile, he tries not to think about the existence of his own dick at all, because otherwise he’ll just fucking come. He’s already so aroused that his body gives up on even trying to feel his legs because there’s way too much else already going on. Which is why it takes him awhile to notice that Venom has wound tendrils around the back of his thighs and his ass to hold him tight and close. Or—not just hold him: actually leverage him forward to put more force behind his hips. Venom is using its own strength to make him fuck it harder. Once again: embarrassing, but hot. He grips the symbiote’s hips tighter.

“You like it hard, huh?” he pants.

“I don’t know. Do it hard so I can find out.”

He lets out an affronted gurgle, and Venom immediately starts to laugh, delighted with itself.

Eddie bounces the flat of his hand off Venom’s ass. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve been asking you to do.”

He laughs helplessly, which devolves into a moan. More of Venom has wrapped around his legs, all the way up to his waist, to pull him in. He glances down. They’re all but fused at the hips now, the symbiote partly unmade around him. He folds himself down onto Venom, laying himself along its back, hips bucking desperately. His whole body aches and throbs with the urge to come. He can feel the build-up of an orgasm in his fucking  _teeth_.

Really embodying the desperate-college-freshman role. He’s going to come in about five minutes flat—or has more time passed? he’s suddenly not sure—without even offering a proper reacharound. 

“Good, Eddie,” Venom sighs, arching and rocking back into him. “It’s good, Eddie.”

“V, fuck— I can’t—” He presses his face into the symbiote’s back and tries to muffle his own fucking noises. Strips of blackness peel up and brush against his face and neck.

“Yesss, Eddie.”

“V, I, I’m real close—”

By which he means _I’m going to come right the fuck now._

And then—

And then the symbiote opens up. Splits apart like a fucking hotdog bun, and Eddie falls, plunges, is pulled forward, down, in, in, _in_ ,  _oh_ , and he’s surrounded and held and consumed and protected and he’s not Eddie, they’re Venom, and they give a little sob because the pleasure and joy and thrill of being inside and being filled is enormous and simultaneous and complete and everywhere and they shudder with the pure satisfaction of it, settling slowly onto the bed and basking in it, sprawled out and content.

A minute passes. Another minute. They’re warm and lazy, like they’ve been fed something rich and filling. This is nice.

**Should do that again, Eddie.**

_Yeah_ , he agrees. _Later_.

**Did you like it?**

_Yeah. What about you?_

**Yes**.

_Even though it was different?_

**It was different, but still good.**

_Cool_ , he says. _Hey, can you give me an arm?_

The symbiote does, peeling back from one of his arms. They roll onto their side, and he places his palm onto Venom’s, and it grips back at him, fingers between fingers, and it feels good. Compatible anatomy.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://strangefingers.tumblr.com/) (sometimes) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/strangefingers) (often).
> 
> And _now_ , please behold this magnificent art by [Schadenfiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfiend/pseuds/Schadenfiend).
> 
> Additional images can be viewed [here](https://schadenfiend.tumblr.com/post/179885348612/wheeze-if-you-havent-read-outside-in-by) on tumblr.


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